I have such a great photo of the day today - I really and truly do. Today is a once in every 4 years sort of day. I don't really want to have the past three weeks ever again in my lifetime let alone in 4 years time.
But today is a good good day and the photo of the day is great.
Not great because I am in it but because of what it says and what I can celebrate.
I finally finally got my results today. After not hearing and then ringing constantly and being told there was a hold up in histology etc etc and meeting with a rather unhelpful secretary I finally got them and they are all clear.
The dreaded result didn't happen and I can't begin to explain how I feel.
Thank you to my many many friends who read here daily who have sent so many message of support and encouragement whilst I was going through the tests and the wait.
And it really has changed me. The whole thing. I really am trying to savour each and every day. I really am trying to live rather than plan. And I really am truly grateful for this life. So many people have such truly awful things to deal with, such awful tragedies to face and I am very very lucky and extremely blessed. I have always tried to see the positives in life but I can tell you what, having a wake up call really does put things into perspective.
I have to go out to a meeting shortly but even that feels absolutely fine!
The page I am sharing today is another art journal page which, this time, was all about layers.
I was aiming for a look a poster on top of layers so I made the poster first then put it down on lots of layered things. Sort of worked, but not completely. I still feel I haven't got the hang of this art journal stuff.
- the all clear!
My one minute inspirational page today is
The windshield wipers scraped aside the morning sleet. Miles of red glowing taillights lined Route 50 leading into Washington, D.C. This was part of my daily routine: Each day I woke up, inched through traffic, worked eight hours, sat in more traffic, walked my German shepherd, Kai, and went to bed. I was single and 22 years old. The year before, I’d dropped out of college. God, I prayed, isn’t there more to life than this?
I’d grown up in a small Minnesota town. But I had fled from the miles of cornfields by transferring to a college in the D.C. area. After a year in the city, I didn’t know what to do with my life or where to live.
That weekend, Kai and I walked along a leaf-littered trail. The breeze caressed my cheeks and the sun warmed my back. Kai bounded ahead and splashed into the creek. All he wanted was to be with me, playing outdoors. I ached for my life to be that simple. I sat on a boulder and Kai paddled over with a gift, a rock. I tossed it into the water. He dove after it, expecting adventure. Adventure—that’s what I need, I thought. So why am I living here?
My dream had always been to work outside, preferably on horseback. I thought of my brother Chuck, who lived in Montana. Peace overwhelmed me when I remembered horses grazing under ponderosa pines on Rocky Mountain slopes. It was almost as if God’s still, small voice was urging me to plunge into a new adventure.
That evening I phoned Chuck. “I’ll be moving to Montana April first,” I told him. “Can I crash on your floor until I get a job?”
Life is what we make of it.